


aside

by meltingheart



Series: polaroids [3]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Enlistment, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 13:24:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltingheart/pseuds/meltingheart
Summary: happy valentine's day





	aside

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day

“Hey, it’s snowing,” Minho says, leaning into the room as much as he makes sure he doesn’t cross its boundary. 

 

Jonghyun looks up from his notebook, blinking. “Really?” Sometimes his members pretend something special is happening outside, when he’s holed himself up alone for twelve hours and they start to get worried. 

 

“Yeah, come look,” and then Minho’s gone, walking fast back to their living room.

 

Jonghyun thinks for a moment, staring down at the page. There’s not much he has to show for all the thoughts he’d stored up, the paths he’s mentally trodden to try and engrave them in his mind so many times that now that he’s asking himself where they lead, he can’t quite remember. So much for enlistment doing wonders for his creativity. 

 

He abandons the chicken scratch and scribbles in front of him. There’s something much prettier out in the living room, anyways. 

 

Taemin’s in the hallway connecting Jonghyun’s room to the rest of the dorm, blocking half of it with his body as he hunches over to throw dirty laundry every direction he can. Jonghyun crosses his arms. Taemin doesn’t notice him, until he turns to dig through more piles and comes face to face with Jonghyun’s knees. 

 

“Hyung! I didn’t know you came!” He sounds frantic, nudging Jonghyun to the left and rifling through a pile of clothes that distinctly look like they belonged to Kibum at some point. “Actually. Have you seen my wallet?” 

 

The scene is a little disquieting, since it’s so familiar, something that would’ve happened daily at any point of their promotional periods together. But they aren’t promoting together - Kibum and Taemin have just been running themselves ragged with their own schedules, and by circumstance, almost every member’s come together around them. 

 

No matter how much things change, they always seem to stay the same. Except - not quite. It’s a little bit too different, a little off-kilter, now that Jinki’s enlisted and Jonghyun has to be the oldest. He feels too responsible for this kind of thing now. 

 

Jonghyun shrugs at Taemin, trying to throw that feeling out. Of course  _ he  _ wouldn’t know - he’s been writing since he got here, when the dorm was empty, the others still running around to perform and record and whatever else. 

 

“Kibum’s going to be really pissed if you mess up his messes,” he says as he steps around Taemin’s flailing limbs and makes his way out into the living room. 

 

It has a different atmosphere, the living room. It’s usually empty, anyways, a miniature liminal space for the members to pass through on their way to more important things, but there’s something special about it tonight.

 

Jonghyun guesses it’s how the floor-to-ceiling window panes have had their curtains thrown back, Minho’s silhouette dark against them as he watches the snowflakes fly past in flurries.

 

The snow is mesmerizing in its endless fall, already piling up over a foot high, crowding against the glass. Jonghyun likes how quiet just the sight of snow seems to have made the room, and he basks in it for a moment, trying not to breathe too loud and ruin it.  

 

Minho hears him anyway, says, “Come look,” and beckons Jonghyun with one loose hand. 

 

Jonghyun goes easily, trying not to trip, almost wanting to anyways so Minho would reach for him and catch him with a strong grip around his arms. But that’s too romantic, so it doesn’t happen. They stand side by side, watching the snow for a minute. 

 

“When did you get here?” Minho asks, into the silence, into the snow. 

 

“Around four, I think. I was supposed to start heading back before nine…?” Jonghyun has no idea how long he’s been sitting in his room with himself and his pen.

 

Minho sighs. “It’s been snowing non-stop since then. I don’t think you’ll make it back tonight, Jonghyunnie.” There’s a slight lilt in his voice.

 

Jonghyun scrubs a hand across his scalp, sighing. “Rules say back at ten.” He doesn’t like making trouble for his superiors, just wants to get his enlistment done with his head down the whole time. 

 

“They’ll understand, I’m sure they’re being buried under this stuff too,” Minho continues, reading Jonghyun’s worries. “Do you think this counts as a blizzard?”

 

Squinting and humming at the cascading blobs, Jonghyun says, “I don’t think so. Shouldn’t the wind be howling, or something?” His hand is still on his head, rubbing his hair absentmindedly. 

 

Minho notices him moving, finally, and turns, watching him. After a moment, he says, “Our hair matches now,” in a tone like he just found something special. 

 

Jonghyun looks back at him. He reaches over and rubs Minho’s short-cropped hair instead. “Hmm, no, yours isn’t as short.” 

 

Minho just grins, grabbing Jonghyun’s wrist with one hand. “Then I think that means you win, hyung,” he laughs out. Something about the mood changes, something to do with the sparkle in Minho’s eyes, the feeling of the cold air by the windows, the warmth of Minho’s fingers holding onto him like he’ll never have to let go.

 

His hand is still in Minho’s hair, and Jonghyun keeps staring up at Minho, trying not to pull him down by it and smash their lips together for the first time in weeks. 

 

“It’s Valentine’s day tomorrow, Jonghyun.” The glint of Minho’s eyes is more determined as he says it. Jonghyun catches his meaning. 

 

“That holiday’s just about capitalism.” Jonghyun’s lips curl up wry, but his heart keeps beating too fast. Isn’t he too old for that? He might never be too old to be swept off his feet by Minho, he thinks. 

 

“Maybe,” Minho gives it to him, an easy win in Jonghyun’s war against couples. “But the feelings aren’t.” 

 

“I’m glad I got snowed in here,” Jonghyun says. “Can you imagine being trapped on Valentines with your platoon? A crowd of straight men with that kind of love life?” He snorts. 

 

Minho grins again, all teeth and laugh lines and suddenly, Jonghyun feels like he can’t help himself. His hand sweeps down Minho’s face, holding him just how he is so Jonghyun can finally do what he’s wanted to do since he realized Minho was there. 

 

Kissing him feels like coming home, and like rereading an old favorite book he’s forgotten the plot of. Jonghyun feels like he could do it all day, his lips sliding slow and lingering against Minho’s. 

 

Minho’s hand slides up Jonghyun’s arm, holds him by the bicep instead of the wrist, squeezing with every move of his mouth on Jonghyun’s. Jonghyun wants to deepen the kiss, to go further, to move more and take more and do everything he and Minho have done a thousand times already, everything that could never get old to him. 

 

There’s a crash from behind them. Minho groans, annoyed, pulling away from Jonghyun like he can barely be bothered to. 

 

Taemin’s standing in the entrance of the hallway, limbs still splayed out, not making a single effort to get up from where he’s tripped and fallen face-first. Jonghyun frowns, removing his arms from around Minho’s neck. 

 

He starts to ask if Taemin’s okay when Taemin suddenly gasps, sticking one arm straight out and feeling around under the couch. He leaps back up a moment later, clutching his wallet in one hand. 

 

It’s when Taemin straightens back up that Jonghyun realizes Kibum’s been standing behind him the whole time, arms crossed and unamused. 

 

“I know you’re excited your boyfriend’s back from fighting for your freedom, Minho, but can you two please,  _ please,  _ suck face anywhere else besides where  _ we can all see it. _ ” 

 

Minho rolls his eyes, says nothing. Jonghyun chirps out a, “I liked your new single, Kibum,” instead of a hello or a real response, just to get back on his good (or at least fairly neutral) side. 

 

“We’ve talked about this how many times, ugh,” Kibum says, throwing his hands up and passing Taemin to make his way into the other hallway. “Taemin, my piles! What the hell!” He yells next, and Taemin cringes. 

 

“Well, this has been great, but I’m done being distracted from my very hot boyfriend now,” Jonghyun says loudly, more to the air and the snow falling steadily outside than to anyone around him. 

 

Minho laughs again, annoyance forgotten as he lets Jonghyun take him by the wrist and drag him back to Jonghyun’s own room. The heat hadn’t been turned on, because Jonghyun likes it cold, air sharp and fresh in his lungs. 

 

He waits patiently with one hand on the small of Jonghyun’s back while Jonghyun throws his notebook to the far side of the room, where it lands with a dull thwap. He’s about to say something, ask a question about Jonghyun’s notebook or his thoughts or  _ something,  _ but Jonghyun just said he’s done with distractions. 

 

So Jonghyun pushes Minho down on his bed in its place, fisting both hands in Minho’s short, short hair and pressing his lips against his again as he kneels over him. He feels all those feelings Minho alluded to earlier. They burn up his fingers and his tongue as he uses them to trail messages along Minho’s skin, just as heated. 


End file.
